Ranma 1/2 is property of others that doesn't include myself. Such an unfortunate thing, really. Thanks to Rumiko Takahashi for creating the characters. I just plan to use them for my own cruel and unusual punishment, but not for money, profit, or any other such gain. I'm just a sadist. Muahaha.
The wind whistled through the trees as well as the runners' ears, accompanied by their labored breathing. Sweat poured down them, cooling them quickly, considering the chill that pervaded the early morning. Light from the sun was only then starting to peek over the towering mountains of China that surrounded them. They were sprinting up a hill from the obscure premise called training, only an hour or so away from the camp they'd struck. They would run for a time, train, then eat a quick breakfast before continuing on. It was a daily ritual they'd enjoyed for the previous ten years.
Quick combinations of strikes flew between the two. Genma grunted under the impact of one well-placed punch. He retaliated, using one of his underhanded tricks to lure Ranma's defenses down. The boy, even after all the time he'd studied with Genma, was subject to such stunts. Or that's what he thought, anyway.
Ranma picked himself up from the ground. Quickly dusting off, he raced up the hill after his father, intent upon giving as good as he'd just gotten. They reached the top, both breathing heavily. Looking back, they found that the hill was more like a small mountain, rather. There was a grove of trees nearby. They angled for it, unlimbering their backpacks. Setting the heavy packs aside, they squared off.
Ranma thumbed his nose at Genma as he got into a familiar attack stance. Their forms blurred as they leapt into the air at each other. The sound of tortured flesh resounded throughout the area.
Genma was feeling weary. It had been coming upon him more of late. One entire side was felling sluggish. Circling Ranma, he found that he'd been maneuvered near a steep descent. More like a cliff, rather. Ranma pressed his advantage, driving Genma back. The two didn't consider such a sheer drop to be a problem, so it wasn't much of a concern.
"Come on, boy. Is this the best you have this morning?" taunted Genma.
"You're askin' for it, Oyaji," was his reply.
Whipping around from a particularly vicious strike to the shoulder, Genma landed on one knee and battled Ranma from there. Grunting with the effort, he made it to his feet once again. Ranma's face was set in a mask of grim concentration. He was taking his training seriously that morning. Performing a roll, Genma found himself only a meter from the edge. But he didn't want to show weakness to his son. He'd taught Ranma that showing weakness during a fight would be one's downfall. And he wouldn't have Ranma see him showing any of that. Gathering his resolve and clenching his teeth, he mounted a hasty defense.
Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain all along his left side. It was excruciating. His arm went limp, opening him to an attack by Ranma. The young man, not understanding the problem, thought his father was only trying to trick him once more. With a few quick, decisive hits to Genma's torso, the older man fell over the edge.
As soon as Genma cleared the edge was the time that Ranma realized that something was wrong. It was the way that Genma was falling. The older man didn't seem to have any control of his descent, which wasn't normal for him. The two of them had taken up an intensive training on how to avoid any injury while descending steep declines. Leaping forward, Ranma reached out to Genma.
But it was too late.
The cry of 'Oyaji' from his son followed him down.
The sound of bones snapping from the tumble and rocks rolling over the body reached Ranma. His stomach rose into his throat. Frantically, he leapt down after his father. He was careful of his descent, making sure that he didn't upset any more of the slope, avoiding more of a pile-up on top of Genma. Upon reaching the inert form, he prodded the body. Pulling the debris away, he rolled his father over.
His alarm grew to new heights as he sought out vital signs, finding none. Nausea overcame him when he found the worst thing that could have happened. Genma's neck had been broken during the fall. Turning away, Ranma began retching. Since they hadn't eaten, he dry heaved for several minutes.
There was his father, one of the strongest men he knew, whose blood was on his hands. Anguish rose up for the old man, for he had been his companion, teacher, nurturer. The blood pounding in his ears drowned out the keening wail that he emitted from his throat. Gathering the body up into his arms, he vaulted up the hill to where their packs were. Laying the limp form down on the rough grass, he tried to think of what to do from there.
From the higher vantage, he looked about for the closest village. Smoke was rising more than a few hours travel away. Actually, it was rather close. The only problem was the fact that there were so many hills in between him and the village. That hindered the traveling, even with his abilities.
Looking at the body of his father, he felt a wave of guilt wash over him. It was all his fault. If he hadn't pressed so hard, Genma might have had a chance.
The realization slowly came to him that there was nothing he could do. He was out in the wilderness with the closest village several hours away. And there was no way he could mend a broken neck. As much as he wished he could, there was no way he could do it.
There was one thing he could do, though. Gathering himself, he approached the copse of trees that stood nearby. Genma would get a proper Japanese cremation. That, at least, he could do.
It took him only an hour to gather enough wood and make a proper pyre. With his advanced martial abilities, he was able to knock down trees and, somehow, chop them up. He'd been lucky enough to find a couple of trees that were dead and dry. Having Genma smolder for the next few days didn't appeal to Ranma. Stacking the logs was the easy part, as well as placing his father on the pyre. It was harder, however, to start the fire. After a few false starts, he finally managed to gain enough resolve to finish what he'd started.
As the fire crackled, memories started flooding Ranma.
None of the bad things came to the fore. Or any of the other zany things his father had tried out on him. Rather, it was the times that they trained together in the predawn. Like that day. The morning air was crisp, taking one's breath away because of the chill. That was the exhilarating part of the training each morning. The simple life had been looked over so many times. It was those times that one lived for. The comforting presence of someone you knew well and cared for. Even if his father had disappointed him on occasion, it hadn't driven him to seek someone else out. There had been opportunities, but he'd discarded them. It had all been about him and his father on the road.
They'd visited many dojo during the years. Challenging the students from each one had helped with Ranma's evaluation of opponents, learn new techniques, or practice them on someone.
Genma had picked some of the finest. His own evaluation of others was excellent and he had wanted Ranma to have an unerring sense when faced with an opponent.
Ranma was glad for that fact. There were other times that his father had had a valid idea that had worked like it was supposed to.
Like the time he'd stubbed his toe the first year of their journey. His father's words echoed to him. "Pain is all in the mind." They'd taken it to the next level. After some intense training, Ranma had been able to master his body enough so that he didn't feel pain as keenly. He felt it, but was able to tone it down to the point to where he could shelve it for another time.
And there were other training techniques that had worked. Like the cliff training. They'd nearly broken their necks multiple times, but that had been half of the fun. Leaping up to dizzying heights and then coming down afterwards had been exhilarating.
And now it was a fall that had killed his father. Something that they'd trained to avoid. And it was all Ranma's fault.
He squeezed his eyes shut, blocking the tears that threatened to flow. Men didn't cry, his father had told him multiple times. And he wouldn't dishonor his father's memory by doing so. Gaining control of himself, he watched the fire die down to embers. There was nothing left.
Picking up the emptied canteen that would act as an urn, he scooped up the remains of one Saotome Genma. He would eventually take the ashes of his father back to Japan. That was the least he could do. After having finished his task, he turned to the packs lying near the trees. There was no way he could carry both back. There was no reason to, really.
But there were a few things that he had to get out of his father's backpack before continuing on. Putting the canteen into his own pack, he pulled his father's over to him. With a disconsolate sigh, he opened the pack. The most pertinent things to Genma's daily survival were on the top. That was a given. Nobody wanted to look through all sorts of things in order to find what they used daily. Discarding everything of no use off to the side, he got down to some serious rummaging.
It didn't take him long to find what he was looking for. The tanto that his father had carried was a family heirloom, he'd been told. He carried it as a reminder of promises. Not that he'd kept many, but it was still a part of their past. And then he found the manual he hated most, the Neko-ken. It described various techniques, the Neko-ken being one of them. A very simple explanation, but enough to cause the damage it had done years before. Just reading the kanji on the book sent a shiver down his spine.
One of the last things in the backpack caught his attention. Pulling it forth, he found it to be a scroll case. Opening it, he found that there was, indeed, a scroll inside. He'd never seen his father with it, so his curiosity got the better of him. Unrolling the scroll, he read.
As he perused, his breath started to become quicker and shallower. It described something that his father had only hinted at. The Yamasenken. The dreaded techniques that his father had created and then supposedly destroyed. It was mute evidence that such a fact was not so. With great restraint, and shaking hands, he re-rolled the scroll carefully and placed it in its case. There would be time for him to inspect the contents more thoroughly. Right then, he had to finish with his sorting.
There were a few other things that captured his attention. But not for long, since he had to finish his journey. They'd set out for a particular destination and it couldn't be interrupted, even with the fact that his father had died. He'd been brought up with the fact that one lived and died by the Art. Though it pained him to do so, he had to continue. Genma's death was his fault, but he wouldn't belittle the memory by discarding the life he'd been brought up to live.
After an hour or more of sorting through Genma's belongings, he was finally able to continue. The currency he found was in limited supply. It would help him in his travels. But, having been taught to be self sufficient, the fact didn't bother him at all.
Everything was packed and there was nothing to hold him there anymore. The wind was scattering the remaining ashes. A good rain would cause the scar to become less pronounced until, eventually, there was only a memory of what had transpired. Looking back at the pack that he was about to leave, he had the insight that he should have gone through everything before cremating his father. Then, at least, he could have sent up the pack with the other possessions. Just leaving the pack lying about seemed unjust, but that was all he could do. At least it was hidden away by the tree trunks and their litter.
Shrugging his pack onto his shoulders, he set out. There had been a destination intended. Opening the pamphlet, he looked at the picture of a serene valley. It was mist-shrouded with a multitude of pools scattered about. From each sprouted a bamboo pole. Something that his father had picked up on instantly. It would be a great place to practice the Art of aerial combat, which was one of the Saotome's specialties. There were many kata that they had found and used. The Jusenkyo training grounds would be the perfect place to work out with them.
Ranma walked up to the hut that stood near the cleft in the mountain. After the morning's incident, it had cut into the travel time, making it a very late afternoon by the time he arrived at Jusenkyo. The hut that housed the guide was a ramshackle affair, from what Ranma could tell in the slowly darkening day. The entire structure was made of uncut stone with a thatch roof. Very primitive. But there was a door, at least.
"Anybody home," Ranma called out.
After a moment of silence, he finally heard a groan from inside. He took a step back. There was a scraping sound similar to feet dragging along the ground and then the door opened up. Revealed was a stout Chinese man. His face was slightly swollen, beady eyes peering about blearily. The man wasn't drunk, but his bleary eyes showed that he had just been awoken. His eyes didn't even focus on Ranma, but through him. Ranma wondered to himself who would go to bed so early, but declined to ask the man the question. The fellow must get up early for his daily work.
The proprietor of the hovel said something in Chinese.
Not knowing any Chinese himself, Ranma pointed to the pass and asked, "Jusenkyo?"
It took a moment for the fellow to even have a glimmer of understanding of what was being asked. Finally, he nodded. Ranma smiled his thanks and headed off while the guide went back inside to fall to sleep once more.
It was nearing dusk by the time Ranma made it to the springs proper, so Ranma hurried to get some training in before setting up camp. Setting his pack down several meters from the first pool, he leapt up onto one of the bamboo poles.
The valley's appearance had been captured exactly. A fine mist hung upon the ground, giving the place an ethereal feel. Sunlight sparkled on the springs. It was more of a ruby tone rather than the amber or diamond as it would have been earlier in the day, but it helped set the mood. Added to the strange feeling was that the only things other than water were the bamboo poles sticking out of each and every one. Curiously, no grasses or weeds of any type grew out of the soil. Only hard-packed earth surrounded the area. Trees and grasses only began to grow nearly fifty meters from the closest edge.
Paying this no mind, Ranma began his preparations. Deepening his breathing and clearing his mind, he focused on his martial arts. Once he was mentally prepared, he began leaping between the poles.
His body flowed gracefully through the air. This was his element entirely. His school worked mainly on aerial combat. Leaping higher and higher, he began to clear treetop level. Not once did he slip as he landed on a bamboo pole. Each kata he used melded into the next effortlessly.
Losing himself in the Art, he never noticed that the daylight was finally slipping away into complete darkness. Moonlight illuminated the mist, adding more to the eerie effect. This never hampered Ranma's abilities one iota.
Jump, spin, kick, spin again, flurry of punches, kick, land. Jump, punch, grapple, flip, fling an imaginary opponent, land.
The kata went on and on. Several times, he was upside down and fighting. Others, instead of landing on his feet, he used his hands, leaping away with just his arms. He couldn't quite reach the same heights, but it was still impressive.
Eventually, he came to the end of the springs. He leapt down and circled the springs, heading back to his backpack to go make camp. Stopping beside the pack, he suddenly felt a shiver run down his spine. Turning about, he blanched at the sight before him. He took a step back and tripped over his backpack, landing unceremoniously.
The mist that had been clinging to the ground was moving as if with a life of its own, more than the light of the moon illuminating it. It rushed to the center of the springs, coalescing into a serpentine form. Mesmerized by the sight, Ranma watched as the mist began to form into a dragon. His mouth hung open in disbelief.
Picking himself up, he stepped around his backpack and waited for the beast to finish becoming corporeal. Standing on the edge of one pool, his only apparent reaction was one of awe. He felt no fear of the dragon whatsoever. It was odd, that, but something that could be considered later if need be.
Cologne was humming to herself as she watched the fire. Her old bones were wrapped in a comforting shawl to ward away the night's chill. Her grandson was tending to the dinner dishes, as it was his chore until he married. Sitting back, she drew deeply from her pipe.
All of a sudden, internal alarm bells rang inside of her. Her ancient magic and martial abilities were saying that something was amiss. Leaping out of her chair, she rushed outside. Looking about, she spotted a glow on the horizon. Visibly unsettled, she went back inside to her grandson.
"I'll be back shortly, boy. If I shouldn't return by daybreak, alert the others that I've gone to Jusenkyo in order to investigate a matter that has suddenly arisen," she instructed.
He nodded. "Should I go get my cousin, Shampoo, to help you, Great Grandmother," he asked. His manner was unperturbed, as if nothing could phase him.
With a shake of her head, she negated his idea. "If what I think is happening is, then she will be of no help to me. Just mind the place until I return." In the blink of an eye, she was gone, hopping on her staff.
This occurrence disturbed her greatly. Nobody had ever brought forth the dragon in Jusenkyo for many years. She felt it her duty to see who was challenging the dragon.
The dragon looked down at Ranma curiously. Raising one eyebrow, he leaned forward for a closer look. ~You are a young one, are you not,~ echoed through Ranma's mind.
The voice was thunderous, even if it was only a mental projection. Falling to one knee, Ranma held his hands to his head, trying to regain his senses.
Chuckling, the dragon continued less forcefully. ~My apologies. But you have captured my attention. Normally, those that come to Jusenkyo fall into a pool at some point. You, however, haven't. Also of note, you are not of this land. If I remember correctly, you look like one of the islanders. Japan, perhaps?~
Ranma nodded. Aloud, he said, "Yes. I'm Saotome Ranma." Emboldened by the dragon's amiability, he continued. "My father and I were heading here to work on the Art some more. What is it that's dangerous about this place? The only thing I see that would be dangerous would be a quick dip into one of the pools."
Snaking his head even closer to Ranma, the dragon said, ~Ah, but to do so would be dangerous. You see, I punish those that come here who fall into each and every one of them. There are a few that haven't been fallen into, but that is of no matter. Then there are those that some have drowned in. I've trapped their likeness, or soul, into the water in order to punish any other interlopers. That is why these springs are called cursed by mortals such as yourself.~
Gulping audibly, Ranma asked, "And if I had fallen into one of the pools, what would happened to me?"
~But you didn't, my dear Ranma. However, if you had, you would have taken the shape or mental aspect of whomever drowned within one of these pools. Now, it wouldn't be permanent, mind. A simple dousing of warmed water would change you back to your original form. Until you met cold water again, of course. Otherwise, it wouldn't be a curse.~
Ranma shifted nervously about, taking one step back from the pool he was standing near.
~I would entreat you to undergo a test, if you will. It has been some time that another has challenged my valley here and I'm curious as to whether you have the aptitude to pass a trial.~
Ranma understood the challenge for what it was. Pit his martial abilities against the dragon. Granted, he was a great martial artist, but everyone knew that a dragon was, is, whatever, one of the most formidable forces to be reckoned with. Looking down at the pool in front of him, he gulped again.
Catching onto Ranma's internal plight, the dragon laughed wholeheartedly. ~Do not be concerned with falling into the pools. Should you fail, I will not punish you, for you have already proven yourself on that account. However…~ The dragon paused, his eyes flashing dangerously. ~Should you refuse to humor me, I might take offense.~
One thing Ranma was not, was a coward. But the fact of the matter was, he was out of his element here. With the recent death of his father, caused by his own hand, no less, gave him pause. He had to take his father's remains back to Japan. With the guarantee that his safety was assured, he had no worries of losing his own life or the ability to return to Japan for the proper internment of his father's remains. And he didn't know, really, whether the test he was about to take was one of martial arts. If it was martial arts, he could do anything. But he knew his limitations, too. Should it be something other than the Art, he was seriously limited. Not to take up the challenge, by the dragon's implied threat, could also have dire consequences.
Standing straighter, Ranma looked the dragon in the eye. "Sure. Do your worst."
Cheered by Ranma's acceptance of a trial, the dragon reared back. With a flick of one claw, upon each pole leapt a shadowy figure. Each one was a warrior of one type or another. Most were Chinese, by the look of their attire. Some were weaponless, while others carried weapons that even Ranma had no clue were.
"What exactly am I supposed to do," queried the teenager.
~Why, fight them, of course. I shall implant a fighting style of one type or another within your mind. Should you prove capable enough, you will learn them in a matter of seconds. Use them on each of the fighters here. Prove yourself able, you will defeat over one hundred of these and I shall reward you accordingly.~
Looking up, Ranma saw that the pole in front of him was empty. Every other one was occupied by a ghostly figure. He smiled to himself. This was exactly the kind of challenge he could take up. Curious, Ranma looked up at the dragon again. "By the way, you never did introduce yourself. You know my name, but I don't know yours."
Embarrassed at his lack of manners, the dragon scratched behind his head. ~Oh, how dreadful of me. Why, my name is Ju Sen Kyo. The mortals just call this place Jusenkyo after myself. I'd thought you would have caught on. Ah, well.~
Ranma nodded. It was fitting, really, and he bonked himself on the head for not having realized that such a thing would have been the case. Shrugging to himself, he leapt up onto the unoccupied pole. "I'm ready as I'll ever be."
Ju Sen Kyo moved back from Ranma, giving the young martial artist room to maneuver. ~You will have all the time you need to learn each move. However, I do hope you don't take too long.~ Narrowing his eyes, he said, ~Begin.~
If the first time Ranma had heard the voice in his head was bad, the force of having a move enter his head was overwhelming. He mustered enough strength and willpower to hold on, gripping the bamboo pole with his feet.. Each and every movement he had just been given was absorbed, added to his repetoir, and then internalized fully. His muscles, conditioned to perform such movements, were prepared for what he was about to demand of them.
It only took a full minute for the first mental image to be set up fully within him. And that was only because of the lack of experience with this particular form of learning.
At once, he was moving fluidly. Like water and wind, he flowed with each and every movement. His body danced about from pole to pole, fighting each of the opponents set up against him. The first move he learned happened to deal with two of the figures. They were dispatched with ease. A simple placement of a knife hand to one of their necks sent the figure to the ground limply, where it dissolved into nothingness. The other rocketed into the sky with a well-placed kick to the chin. Landing on a vacated pole, he waited for the next lesson.
As he continued with the fighting, the lessons came easier. The weapons he grasped were real enough. Though one or two grazed him, they inflicted no real damage. They were solid when he grasped them, but any other physical resemblance was lost. It didn't take long for him to start grinning like a madman. Fully in his element, Ranma lost himself within the challenge of proving himself one of the premier marital artists in the world.
Meanwhile, Ju Sen Kyo watched with morbid fascination as Ranma proved himself capable. He'd only seen a few others master his test. And Ranma was displaying an ability that he had never seen in the many millennia he'd been administering it.
Ryoga was camped not too far from Jusenkyo, himself. He'd managed to track his nemesis, Ranma. Having found the remains of the pyre and the backpack, he knew that there was only one left of the Saotome pair. And, if the footprints were any indication, Ranma was the individual that he was following, not the father
Though not the best at tracking in the slightest, he managed to find Ranma's trail. But he was only an hour or more behind. Sitting at his camp, he watched the lights play in the valley, curious as to what was going on. Eventually that curiosity got the better of him.
Packing his belongings, he set off towards the lights.
It took him awhile to arrive, considering his challenge with direction. Standing on a cliff edge, he was able to see the dragon watching a figure fight ghostly images. Staring in awe, he saw opponent after opponent fall. Due to distance and the lack of any decent light, he was unable to distinguish who was fighting. Ryoga looked about for any way down, wanting to get a better look. Seeing none but to drop down, he looked over the cliff to judge the distance. Satisfied that it wasn't too far, he leapt down.
He landed on solid ground. Peering about, he found the figure that he'd espied before. That person was much closer.
Suddenly, he saw one of the others that were standing on the bamboo poles get knocked towards him. Taking a step to the side, he found himself slipping on slick mud. The flying body disappeared before it even reached him, but he found himself windmilling his arms. There was a large splash as he landed in the water.
Ju Sen Kyo saw the hapless martial artist. With one eye on Ranma, he slithered around to where a struggling pig swam. Shaking his gargantuan head, he fished the small, black pig out of the water carefully. Reaching inside the water, he also pulled out the backpack and clothes of the unfortunate.
He was feeling quite generous. Therefore, with a wave of a claw, warm water splashed onto Ryoga. Sputtering, the young man stood up and quickly clothed himself. He bowed to the dragon, stuttering a thanks.
~As you have been judged, therefore, you are to be accursed. Know ye that, forevermore, you are to be changed into a pig, unless you should find a way to remove your curse, when doused with cold water. Warm water shall reverse the effect. Now go.~ Ju Sen Kyo turned his full attention back to Ranma.
Ryoga slumped to the ground in misery. He'd only wanted to see who was doing the remarkable feat of defeating the warriors. If he had been able to catch up with them, they could have taught him some more martial arts so he could defeat Ranma more easily. But, instead, he had leapt down to his own doom.
Somehow, he knew it was all Ranma's fault. If his nemesis had just shown up for their man-to-man fight, he wouldn't have had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting up with Jusenkyo. Standing, he gathered his pack up and wandered off, not wanting anything more to do with this miserable place.
After stumbling away from the pools, lost in his own thoughts, Ryoga found himself at the Jusenkyo guide's hut. Knocking loudly, he was greeted by the guide, who was looking better after having slept for a time, compared to when Ranma had woken him.
The guide said something in Chinese. Seeing no intelligent response from Ryoga, he turned away. Before he could go, however, Ryoga put a hand on his shoulder.
"Do you speak Japanese, sir?"
Scratching his head, the guide nodded. "I speak little Japanese. What you want?"
"Would it be okay if I stayed here for the night?" He looked at the sky. Though it didn't appear to be cloudy, he really didn't want to give the fates any chances. "I'm willing to pay or work for the lodging."
The guide nodded, waving his hand. "I have work you can do in morning. Have to walk back to train station to get more supplies. Start early in morning. You look to have strong back, so can carry some things. You take spot there by fireplace."
Ryoga looked at the place offered and nodded. The guide stared back to his own cot, but suddenly turned around.
"You no visit Jusenkyo, yes?"
It took a minute for Ryoga to understand what was being asked. When he finally realized what it was, he nodded.
"Ah. Stay away from there. Is bad place. Cursed pools there that will change you. No one I know yet have found cure, so I no chance it if I were you."
Ryoga sighed, feeling more miserable.
It took Cologne longer than she wanted to make it to Jusenkyo. By the time she did, Ranma was nearly through with his test. She watched from a tree, judging his abilities. Seeing his graceful arcs, she found that he was performing all the moves flawlessly. She knew this only because she had taken the test, herself, though not successfully.
She couldn't tell exactly who it was, but the flashes she got indicated that, whomever it was, was Japanese. The gi gave it away. No one in China used a gi, as far as she knew. During her vigil, she also saw someone else walking away from the pools. Any indication of who it was, was blocked by the bulk of Ju Sen Kyo and then the dark of night.
Dismissing him, she turned her attention back to Ranma. He was finishing his last four opponents with ease. Coming to rest on the last pole, she saw him look up at Ju Sen Kyo.
Ranma waited expectantly. He'd proven that he could do what was asked of him. Exhaustion was creeping up on him, but he staved it off with only minor effort. The adrenaline rush he was experiencing was almost overwhelming, making him quiver in excitement.
~You have done well. It has been nigh two hundred years that I have had a worthy challenger. Therefore, I bequeath unto you the first of my blessings. From here on out, you shall receive the gifts. Of them, there is the Gift of Faces. This shall be the first you are to master. After, in succession, are the Gifts of Sight, Flight, Fire, Mind, and Form. Each one is difficult to master. And they shall go beyond the abilities of Martial Arts. I am in the mind that, though you are only focused on the Art, you would do well in learning these Gifts.~
Ranma started to argue. "But all I want is the Art. The Saotome School of Anything Goes needs me to be the best in only the Art. Whatever the Gifts are, you can keep them. The only reason I came here was to practice aerial combat, which is my family's specialty. Other than the Art…"
Ju Sen Kyo forestalled any other arguments. ~It is of no consequence. Since you came to my valley, even in ignorance, I choose you as my Avatar. Henceforth, you are to master each Gift.~ Ranma started to argue again, but was drowned out by the mental voice. ~I have summoned a worthy teacher to help you.~
Cologne found herself moving of another's will. She sighed, knowing that she should have figured upon this event. But her own curiosity was piqued by the young man, no more than a teenager, who had stumbled onto the honor which she, herself, had sought after. She would accept him with open arms, even without Ju Sen Kyo's prodding.
Ranma stared at the withered old woman that came into the moonlight. He was surprised by the fact that something that old could actually be moving still. And so nimbly. Pointing a thumb at her, he asked, "What's it she's gonna teach me? I mean, a dried up old monkey with tricks up her sleeve or somethin'?"
Faster than her age should have allowed, she jumped to a pole near Ranma and bopped him on the head. "This 'dried up old monkey', as you say, has over three thousand years of Amazon techniques under her belt, boy. You would be wise to hold judgment for now." Turning to Ju Sen Kyo, she said, "Now that you've saddled me with this child, what do I get in return?"
Ranma quipped with, "Wow! Three thousand years of techniques and you don't look a day over two thousand."
Cologne glared at Ranma and thwacked him on the head with her staff again. Ju Sen Kyo chuckled.
Settling down, Ju Sen Kyo thought for a moment. After coming to a conclusion, he said, ~How about shaving off a dozen or two years off? Would that be sufficient?~
Cologne cackled. "Oh, my, wouldn't that be good? But, no, I don't think I want that. I've been alive longer than most. Perhaps we can discuss the payment at another time?"
The dragon smiled. ~Yes, that would be splendid.~ Thoughtfully, ~If, so long ago, you had waited another year or so…you might have won his place.~
She paused in thought. "Perhaps. But I was a brash youth, too. Though I was near the end, I could have finished, if not for my o'erweening pride in my abilities. If not for that, I may not have made the assumption that I could take that blow, instead of taking on the form you gave me. But that is of another time and place. And, now that I have had time to think of it, I believe I'm better for not being in this boy's place."
Ju Sen Kyo smiled enigmatically. ~Perhaps. Or perhaps not. As you say, it is of another time and place. Neither here nor there. But your reward shall be suitable for your duty to me.~ He turned his attention back to Ranma. ~As to your first Gift…~
Suddenly, Ranma found himself lifted bodily from the pole he had been standing on. He tried struggling, but it was to no avail. Then, as if by a mighty heave, he found himself flying across the valley. With a muffled cry, he splashed down into one of the pools. Surfacing, he looked down at himself.
"Dammit," Ranma yelled, "you said I wouldn't be cursed. I didn't fall into any of the pools. And now you've just thrown me into one of them. What kind of raw deal is this?"
~This is the first of the Faces you are to master. During your tenure with Cologne, you will find that having this particular Face will help you. She is an Amazon. Thus, she can only bring you into her tribe as a female. By her accepting you as a woman, you will have access to the village, unlike any male. I warn you, however, this is not a curse. Until you have mastered changing back to your original form, you will be in this form. I give you a warning. Don't go yelling about being a man. Otherwise, you'll be cast out without a teacher. And she is one of the few I would trust, if I were you."
Ranma bowed her head. Her bangs hung over her eyes, drops of water falling into the pool. "What the hell did I ever do to deserve this," she said to herself.
"Come now, girl, my tired old bones aren't liking this chill weather. I want to get back to my fire and then to bed. And you'll become ill if you stay out here too long in those wet clothes."
They both turned to Ju Sen Kyo as he spoke. ~Know this, Saotome Ranma. Through Fate and Destiny, you have been led here. Even I cannot see past the Veil in order to determine this. I take those that come to receive my Gifts as my Avatars, should they prove themselves. In time, you shall reap the benefits of this. Even with your recent loss, you are full of fighting spirit. Keep it with you forever, for it shall warm you on those cold nights when hope seems to have lost its way. I bid you farewell.~
The dragon, made of mist, finally went back to his dormant form. Ranma looked up at the smirking Cologne. "Well, I guess that's that." She waved, as if to go.
"Get your backpack, child. We have a bit of a journey, the two of us. And the sooner that we get started, the sooner we can be about sleeping in a warm bed."
Ranma was still balking. There were things she needed to do yet. Take her father's ashes to Japan, to name one. "I'll be seeing you. I'll do the trainin' on my own, thanks."
Cologne looked at the departing youth for a moment before following. Pogoing up to her, she kept pace. "I'd suggest coming with me. At least for tonight. When you wake in the morning, we can discuss your training. And refusing a warm bed and a meal really isn't all that wise, either."
Stopping, Ranma contemplated the offer. It didn't sound too bad, really. It had been weeks since she'd had a meal other than rations. And it would be longer still before any real meals came her way. Nodding, she motioned for Cologne to lead the way.
When they reached Cologne's home, Ranma saw that it wasn't any ramshackle hut. Rather, it was a well-built house of ancient influence. A few centuries out of style, but quite pleasant all the same. Upon entering, a cozy feeling pervaded. Both didn't feel the need to find their beds yet, so Cologne entered her kitchen and fetched a kettle for tea.
While it heated, Ranma sat down beside the fire, which had been banked by Cologne's great grandson. A gesture from Cologne told Ranma to stir it up and add some firewood to get some flames. Obliging the old woman, Ranma did as instructed without comment or complaint.
In a moment, their water for tea was ready. Not a word had been said between the two since they'd left Jusenkyo. Settling back in her favorite chair, Cologne looked over her cup at Ranma, sipping gently at her hot tea.
Ranma looked everywhere but at Cologne, whom she still kept an eye on through her peripheral vision. She was waiting for her to start the conversation that had been eminent. But the old woman wasn't obliging her in any way. With a sigh, Ranma finally turned her head to Cologne. "So, what is all this about exactly? A dragon that pops out of nowhere, some weird test, and then this." She pointed down at herself in disgust.
Cologne hummed to herself before replying, tapping a long nail on her cup. "The test you were given was in two parts. The first was to see how fit you are. As to that, it is apparent that you are. And the second was to see how mentally capable. By assimilating the techniques given to you, Ju Sen Kyo was able to determine whether you could grasp the knowledge he handed you. You'll need that in order to learn to control the Gifts he has given." She paused to take another sip of tea, savoring its warmth while Ranma incorporated the information.
"The dragon is one of several beings that are too powerful to roam the earth and yet remain within contact during the struggle they face. Therefore, they have selected locations for a link with this world and the one they reside. Had Ju Sen Kyo and the others stayed here so many millennia ago, we would not be here today, which is what they wish to prevent.
"Now, as to the Gifts…They are powers given to their Avatar. And an Avatar is one who fights in their name. They vary with each being that grants such. There is the Dragon, Phoenix, and Sphinx to name a few. There are others with similar abilities. Each, therefore, have an Avatar. But they are allowed only one, though they have not divulged the reason. Their powers are enormous, but they all have agreed to hold to the pact they made so long ago."
Ranma leaned forward. "So, you're sayin' that there's others kinda like me that got new powers, eh? What are we supposed to do with them? Fight each other or somethin'?" The thought of meeting others and squaring off appealed to the martial artist. If they had similar tests as the one given earlier, then it would be a challenge worth meeting.
Amusement tinged Cologne's words, but turned grim as she continued. "No, child. You all work together in one way or another in order to fight their common foe. There are other forces that wish to invade our planet and enslave us. But they are stopped by those like yourself through various means. Usually, however, individuals like yourself have prior knowledge of what they're getting into. I would assume that the last Avatar has passed away recently, though their lives are extended somewhat beyond any other mortal's."
Ranma stared at Cologne for a time, absorbing the information. It made some sense. But as to some of the more obscure aspects that Cologne hinted at, they still eluded Ranma. She turned to the fire, looking there for any answers. None came, but some questions did.
"What do some of these gifts do, anyway? This Faces one…I don't see how it should be able to work for me. And what about the others?" Simple curiosity didn't drive her for answers. This was something that she now had to live with, whether she liked it or not, which was understood implicitly. Getting as many answers now or as soon as possible was a must. "Who are these guys that are going to be coming after me?"
Cologne smiled. They were all very good questions. It showed Ranma's promise. Her questions showed that her mind worked well enough and on the right track. And being able to accept the responsibility, however reluctantly, was reassuring. Instead of answering the questions at the moment, she decided to ask one herself, just for confirmation to Ranma's motives. "You seem to be accepting this rather well, child. Why is it you're not protesting anymore?"
Ranma smiled grimly. "For years Oyaji and I ran around. Usually from one place to another because we weren't welcome anymore. He ran away from responsibility. And that's something that I can't do this time. Guess it's time to face the music and do what needs done. Besides, a martial artist is someone who protects. With what's been given me, I now have more of an…" Ranma searched around for the word that eluded her. Finally, she perked up, "…obligation. I wanted to follow the Art's path because I wanted to protect the weak. At the time I started, I didn't think about it, but that's what I believe in."
The young woman that sat in front of her had conviction, Cologne saw. But being just a martial artist wasn't enough. One had to be made of sterner stuff in order to protect. And, from what she could tell, Ranma hadn't seriously injured or killed anyone. There were telltale signs in people's eyes that would tell another their story. And Ranma's didn't tell her one of a loss of such innocence. However, the hint of steel was there for such things. It was very promising.
"You beliefs are commendable, Ranma. Now, as to some of your questions needing answers. The Faces is more than just you wearing a mask. You actually become the likeness. Like now, you're all woman. Quite an attractive one at that, I must say." Ranma shrugged uncomfortably at the praise. Being male was what she was and the gender change, she knew, would take some getting used to. "So, while you're here, you need to learn about how to be a woman. There shall be some issues that come up that only a woman can explain to you. If you don't know them already, that is. But, I suspect that you have no idea what's in store for you." Cologne smiled, sending a chill through Ranma. "And it'll be interesting to watch how a man deals with a woman's problems." At this, she began laughing, her cackle resonating throughout the room.
Ranma shifted uncomfortably under Cologne's amusement. Finally, the old woman got control of herself. "But, until then, you need to learn how to carry yourself as a woman. You walk too much like a man still. You've adapted to your balance quite well, but there are other areas you need schooling on." Giving Ranma an appraising look, she continued, "And we have to do something about clothes. Your gi is nice, but you need to fit into the village while you're here. As well as underclothes. I'm sure that you'll find that having some support would be helpful and that the underwear you're wearing won't be as suitable as panties."
The horrified look that Ranma gave her sent Cologne into another bout of laughter. Finally, they both settled down. Ranma with an indignant look and Cologne with an amused. It had been many years since the old woman had had such a laugh and she was enjoying it thoroughly. Ranma was about to protest, but clamped her mouth shut. She'd been instructed to follow Cologne's orders. Being a woman at the moment told her that Cologne had an idea what she was talking about, whether Ranma liked it or not. She wanted to fight what was happening to her, but there was no way out of it. It rankled, but acceptance was the only way to get out of the woman's body and get back into her own. Beating the stubborn pride down, she squared her shoulders and nodded reluctantly.
But her stern facade was broken by a jaw-cracking yawn. Cologne nodded to herself and hopped out of her chair. "It's been a trying day for you. Come. I'll show you to the room you shall be staying in during your training."
Ranma stood and followed Cologne, sleepiness starting to cloud her mind. When she entered the room, she saw that it was spartan. More of a guest's room, not having any personal touches evident. Setting her backpack by the bed, Ranma turned to Cologne. She stared at the old woman for a moment before saying, "Thanks. See ya in the morning."
Cologne nodded and left Ranma to prepare for bed. Returning to her chair, she sat there for a time. Contemplating the problem now before her, she began planning her training regime as well as pondering the shadow that hung over the young woman. There were mysteries to be handled as well. One was determining whether or not to teach Ranma any of the Amazon techniques along with showing how the Gifts were to work.
Finally, not able to continue further with her musings, she went to bed herself.
Ranma woke slowly. Sleeping on a soft cot rather than the hard ground pulled at her consciousness, telling the young martial artist to stay asleep. With her sleep-dulled mind, she started to follow the command, but other problems arose. For one, she had to go to the bathroom. The tea from the previous night was wanting out.
Stirring, she went to scratch her chin. But something wasn't right. There was something soft that her arm encountered in its path to the chin. Cracking an eye open, she looked down to see a mound rising from her chest. Her breath caught at the sight. Cautiously, she sat up and poked the mound with one finger.
She felt it two different ways. One from the finger doing the poking…and one from the breast. And there was a matching breast right next to that one, too.
Horror filled her entire being. It hadn't been a dream.
Women…natural women, that is…had the notion that they were to grow breasts eventually. A man, however, doesn't suddenly wake up with a set of them himself. So, naturally, waking to such a thing was something that brought a mountain of fear and trepidation. Sitting up fully, she pulled the thin blanket away from her body and looked further down.
Yep. All woman. Imagine that.
The scream from the guest room brought Cologne and her great grandson in a hurry. The door flew open at their sudden entrance. Cologne saw Ranma looking down at herself, terror evident on her pale features. She sighed at the young woman's plight. She'd imagined that waking to the new body the next day would be a bit of a shock, but hadn't known what to do about it otherwise.
Seeing that everything was okay, Chen Wan left Cologne to their guest and returned to making breakfast. He turned about quickly, a slight blush on his features. He'd gotten quite an eyeful of a buxom young woman that was only wearing a man's undershirt. Yes, he had Shampoo as a cousin and had many other women he'd seen before, but the foreigner was…healthy. Shaking himself, he tried to get the image out of his head as he stirred the vegetables in his wok.
Ranma, on the other hand, wasn't in a very good mood all of a sudden. And she had a right not to be. Looking at the intruder into her room, she recognized the old woman from the previous night. It all came back to her. The conversation and the reason that she was where she was and the why.
Gritting her teeth, Ranma swung her legs off of the cot and glared at Cologne, even though it wasn't the old woman's fault. She gave a soft snarl as the sound of her teeth grinding filled the room.
Cologne returned the glare with an even one of her own. "Get dressed. Breakfast is almost ready," she said, as if nothing were the matter. Turning, she left Ranma to her own devices.
Dressing quickly, Ranma found that Chen Wan was still preparing breakfast. Walking up to Cologne, she said quietly, "I need to go to the bathroom. Where is it?" She dreaded what she was having to do, but there was nothing for it.
Cologne gave the directions with a soft, sympathetic smile gracing her aged features. Ranma was in for some serious adjusting. And it was all to be in painful clarity each and every instant it happened.
When Ranma returned with a frustrated and embarrassed flush, she sat down at the table, not looking at anyone in the room. The food she ate went down quickly, hardly having time to rest in her bowl. Finished with her breakfast, she left the table and sat down near the fireplace, not saying a word, merely staring at the ashes, her thoughts tumbling from one to the next.
Cologne finished her own breakfast and hopped over to Ranma. "Let's be about your training now, child"
Ranma looked up at Cologne, who was balancing on her staff. "The name's Ranma, not child."
Nodding, Cologne conceded Ranma that fact. The youth had enough stress. She knew that her adding to it would only worsen their working relationship. There was a time for play and this wasn't one of them at the moment. Later, as they got to know each other, she would be able to tease Ranma like she did so many others, as was her wont.
Beckoning to the young woman, Cologne led the way out of the village. Passing several villagers, the Japanese youth received openly curious stares, but the questions were left unasked, since she was in the company of an Elder.
At last, they came to a clearing. It didn't look as if it was used often, but Ranma could see that it was used for martial arts practice. The area was blasted in spots from people impacting. Ranma could tell from the body-shaped imprints.
"What first," she asked.
"I want you to do ten laps around the edge of the field here. You need to get used to the balance and proportions of your body before we do too much. After that, we'll do some sparring so I can judge your abilities."
Ranma nodded and started out. She went at a good clip, eating up the distance required of her rather quickly.
By the time she was finished, she was slightly flushed. Mostly from irritation. Her breasts had been a problem at first, but that had been adjusted to quickly enough. However, it was still enough of a problem. Cologne saw this, nodding to herself.
Pulling a brassiere out of her robe, Cologne handed it to Ranma. It was a simple thing, really. No lace or frills adorned it. "Put this on. Then do another five laps to get used to it. You'll find that there's quite a difference."
Disgust evident on her face, Ranma turned around and stripped off her gi top. However, as she tried to clasp it, she found she was having problems. Chuckling softly, Cologne helped with the clasp. Donning her top again, Ranma set off, finding that the support did help.
The five laps were ran as quickly as the first ten had been done. Ranma wasn't smiling, but the relief that the brazier gave was enough. "So, ready to do some sparring?" she asked.
Cologne nodded.
Ranma found herself defending all of a sudden. The old woman had been balancing on her staff with a placid expression one moment and then attacking the next. Several minutes passed while Ranma tried to get herself centered.
Finally accomplishing that, she started to test Cologne as the old woman tested her herself. Cologne, however, was the one who tagged their opponent the most. Finding herself losing, Ranma focused herself on defense only. It was apparent to her that Cologne was more than she seemed.
Another problem arose as they fought. Ranma's balance was off. It was easy to adjust to, but it was odd for her. The upper body weight was lower than it was supposed to be. The breasts were a definite hindrance. As well as the hips being of a different proportion. Sure, it was waspish, but it wasn't what Ranma was used to.
Cologne pressed her advantage relentlessly, pushing Ranma around the practice field. She used her speed and staff to good effect, stinging Ranma's knuckles as the youth would mount an attack. The skill that Ranma showed was remarkable and she was pleased to see that the martial skills she would impart would be well used.
After some intense fighting, they broke off. Both were panting from the exertion, as they had been ferocious in trying to hit the other. Ranma rubbed several body parts to dull the pain. She hadn't gotten as many through as she wanted, but Cologne had tagged her plenty. It was seeming to her that there was a real reason that she'd been pointed in the old woman's direction for training.
Her own father hadn't been this good, she reflected. Sure, he was good and all, but this woman's speed and overall technique was superior. Genma had the knack for underhandedness. More so than any other adversary Ranma had ever met.
Respect, though grudging, was beginning to form.
Cologne looked at Ranma and saw how fast she was recovering from the workout. She'd managed to scrape Ranma with a fingernail, which looked to have healed almost instantly. It was quite remarkable to her. It would bear looking into. She could either find out how Ranma learned it, since such things weren't usually natural, or find some way to get Ranma to enter the gene pool of the Amazons.
But such musings were for later. Now was time for more evaluation.
Without warning, the Elder launched herself at Ranma again. This time, however, she started pulling out trump cards. Her hands sped up, pounding Ranma relentlessly.
Taken totally by surprise by the attack, Ranma was unprepared. She flew through the air, barely able to control her roll across the field. A cloud of dust rose from her tumble. Almost immediately, she stood up, shaking the cobwebs away. Her ribs were a tad sore, but nothing was broken. She stared at Cologne in amazement. Never in her entire life had she ever seen anyone move that fast.
Dusting herself off, Ranma walked back to where she had been standing. "Pretty good for the dead," she said.
Cologne smiled grimly. There was more to her than that, but the whelp either didn't know it or wasn't concerned about it. A lot of confidence on her part, really. Admirable, but foolhardy in her own estimation. But she had to give the kid credit. Not many received such a punishing and walked back up to her as if nothing had happened. Most were too bruised to even breathe without wincing from the pain.
"I think that's enough sparring for one day. Let's get started on mental exercises. I have a few puzzles you need to go through. As well as start teaching you Chinese. Since you're going to be staying here for an indeterminate time, I think it would be useful. Who knows how often you'll have to come to China during your journeys."
That bothered Ranma quite a bit. Learning a language wasn't so bad. It was the process that was required that really sucked. Sighing, her shoulders slumped. She almost protested the fact, but found the idea intriguing to a certain degree. It seemed that, to herself, she was giving in way too easily to some of the things Cologne demanded. Maybe she should start protesting on some of the things demanded of her. Yeah, that was the way to go.
They returned to Cologne's, Ranma ready to consume lunch already. Her appetite was quite healthy.
Ranma headed into the bathroom, which was a modern thing. it was noteworthy because of how old and distant the village seemed. Cleaning the dust off of herself, she looked at herself in the mirror for the first time since the change.
The ponytail fit in either of her forms. The black hair that pulled back from her face was lustrous. Her eyes were closer set than before, still the same dark blue uncommon to Japanese. The nose was pert. Even turned up just a little. The facial structure was pretty much the same, just a little smaller and narrower. And that was it she could find.
Besides a dramatic height change, she felt good about the new body. It was muscular, though not like the body builders she'd seen on television. The waspish figure was stunning, really. Though she had no real interest in women at the moment, she had to admit that any guy would have to look twice. Even herself before the change. She could tell that there was a healthy aura about herself. This form was much better than having had a dumpy figure or a disfigured face. That really would have sucked.
A call from the dining room brought her out of her self-admiration. Toweling the last of the water off, she left her reflection to find something much better suited to her than her own vanity.
After they finished eating, Cologne introduced Ranma to another meditation technique. That took over the rest of the afternoon as she sought to grasp the purpose and the application. It was meant to delve into her subconscious to find the inner self. Whatever that meant. But Cologne assured her that, once she learned it, she would then be on the proper path for changing her form at will.
Shampoo looked at her cousin in disbelief. Chen Wan had been sent by their great grandmother to bring the younger Amazon into her presence. And not just for a simple talk, Shampoo assumed. She was to go to one of the training fields used for the teaching of secret Amazon techniques. It was an honor that Shampoo wouldn't refuse or be late for.
The week prior, she had been the winner of the annual martial arts tournament. Her prize had been a large meal as well as the praise of her fellow villagers. But now she was to meet an Elder, who happened to be her own great grandmother, and receive even more blessings.
Clapping her hands together in delight, she rushed outside and headed for her rendezvous. In her mad dash to the meeting, she gave those she passed only a cursory greeting. They didn't seem to mind, as they saw her jovial manner and the rush she was in. Shampoo was breathing heavily when she finally made it to her destination. Not due to exertion but from the anticipation.
Her breath caught as soon as she saw that there was somebody else besides her great grandmother. Back stiffening and slowing considerably, she walked towards the two. She started going through a mental catalogue of faces, trying to place the intruder. It eluded her, which was infuriating.
I am here now, Honored Elder, Shampoo said in a strong voice. Her hackles were rising at the sight of this upstart. She studied the smaller girl, sizing her up. She didn't like what she saw. It was apparent that this foreigner was well versed in the combat arts.
Cologne turned at her approach. "We will be speaking Japanese today, Shampoo," Cologne instructed.
It took a moment for Shampoo to make the mental transition. "Okay," she said sourly, trying to hide her emotions but failing.
The old woman noted this, seeing the reason for what it was, but the other missed it entirely. Possibly because of the accent.
Ranma stepped forward, offering a bow. "Ranma here. You must be Shampoo, the old woman's great granddaughter. Chen Wan said you two were cousins." She smiled brightly.
Shampoo's mood was almost brightened by the other girl's cheeriness, but her stubborn pride wouldn't let herself be swayed. She scowled dangerously. "You speak of Honored Elder respectfully. Or I show you error of your ways."
Shrugging, Ranma let the girl's anger slide off like water on oil. It didn't concern her what others thought at the moment. As soon as she'd learned how to change into a guy again, she would be on her way back home. Far away from the Amazon village and, thankfully, Jusenkyo. Turning back to Cologne, Ranma raised an eyebrow in question.
"Yes, she will be your sparring partner for the time being," Cologne said to the nonverbal question. "If you would, I'd like to see the two of you fight each other."
Shampoo, not having practiced her Japanese recently, barely caught onto what was being said. When Ranma leapt out into the field and beckoned, she understood that quite clearly. Smiling grimly, she followed suit.
The gi-clad Ranma was shorter than her, which allowed Shampoo a better reach. Overall, she did a sizing up of Ranma. She made two mistakes, though. Thinking that a Japanese girl could be any good was a thing to laugh at and the other to overestimate her own skills. Didn't she just win the tournament only a week prior? And quite easily at that.
Squaring off, Shampoo assumed a Crane stance while Ranma relaxed, displaying her favorite and most effective dissembling guise.
"Fight!" shouted Cologne.
At the order, Shampoo launched herself at the smaller woman. She shot forward, intending to plant her foot into Ranma's stomach. However, her target refused the honor of being beaten and had slid to one side. Recovering, Shampoo whipped around, letting a side kick fly at Ranma's midsection once again.
It was immediately apparent to Ranma that Shampoo was irritated about something or other. And that their skill levels were much further apart than what she'd hoped, yet anticipated. With a bit of disappointment, she began dodging the strikes easily, sizing Shampoo up even further. It would be best to find all of her opponent's weak spots and remember them. They were, as the old woman had said, going to be sparring partners.
Which irked her quite a bit. She had this thing about hitting women, even though she was one at the moment. Mainly because of her father's teaching of 'women are weak', which had been said many times. Either she was to get over that one hurdle or end up with a serious crutch while sparring against Shampoo.
Ranma shook the cobwebs that were starting to form as she reminisced about her deceased father, paying closer attention to the fight before her. There was no helping the fact that she had to beat Shampoo, really. In order for her to win, she was supposed to take Shampoo down. Knockout, submission, or just wearing the other girl out. It was the last that she would have preferred. But Shampoo was showing an amazing amount of stamina. More than she had originally given her credit for. There were ways to do it, though.
Grimly, Ranma set herself solidly, taking a kick in the leg. Bending with it, she whipped her arm out, grabbing Shampoo's own. Twisting her torso, she pivoted and pulled Shampoo along with her as she did so. Surprised at the change in tactics, Shampoo had no choice but to follow with Ranma as they plummeted to the ground.
After a few rolls in the dirt, they ended up facing each other. Shampoo was stiff because of the roll. Her arm that had been caught up by Ranma's vice-like grip was sore and wasn't functioning as it should. Trying to get some feeling back into her hand, she clenched and unclenched her fist. It did no good.
Smirking to herself, Ranma advanced, seeing that her technique had caused serious discomfort for the Amazon. She inched forward, hands placed in front of herself protectively. As she moved forward, Shampoo circled around to her left, trying to find a gap in her opponent's defenses. There were none at the moment, to Shampoo's dismay.
They probed at each other, testing. Seeing an opportunity, Ranma leapt forward with a low leg sweep, causing Shampoo to hop up and away. Quickly, Ranma followed the movement with a flip using one arm, rocketing to Shampoo's midsection.
Caught by the tactic, Shampoo flew backwards several meters, landing untidily and rolling to her feet. She was sweating by this time, thin rivulets running down her cheeks. This, mingled with the dust, was beginning to cake her with a disgusting coat of mud. She grit her teeth, grinding them audibly.
Humiliation wasn't what Ranma was after. This was a test of not only skill but of mettle. She saw Shampoo's anger rising at being beaten soundly. A quick glance at Cologne didn't give her any clue as to the old woman's thoughts and feelings. Too many wrinkles were in the way.
Wearing Shampoo up was no problem. It just took time. And, with her superior skill, Ranma knew that she had time. As long as Shampoo held out, actually. Settling in for a long ride, Ranma opened her senses to assess her opponent. And time passed.
Shampoo was wearing down, in fact. They had been running around the training ground for quite awhile now, not slowing one iota. Or, rather, she'd been attacking relentlessly while Ranma dodged and blocked all of her strikes. It was infuriating, to say the least. Sweat was pouring down her face and neck into her clothes. It was a familiar feeling, but the irritation came from the fact that she was getting nowhere fast.
And why was that? Ranma had taken several solid blows from her, as if she hadn't been paying attention, but had handled them as if they were minor annoyances. More like they were little love taps than solid kicks and punches from a trained martial artist. She hated doing it, but she had to change tactics, herself. Draw Ranma out of her defensive shell and see what she was made of. If the first time Ranma had done anything was any indication, she was quite good.
At the same time, Ranma's mind was active, too. This had to end soon, or Ranma would have a bitter enemy to spar with, who would go to any and all lengths to cause harm. But it seemed that there would be no respite, even then, she saw. Clenching her jaw firmly, Ranma prepared to do what she hated to do the most. And that was to actually fight a woman. It didn't matter whether or not her life was in danger or not. Fighting the weaker gender was uncalled for. Even if she was one herself until that could be fixed.
Being a woman for the past week had given her a considerable insight as to the workings of a woman's body. What hurt the most and why when you hit it and other assorted little tidbits of information that she hadn't been privy to before. She dodged a vengeful leg sweep and several quick jabs to the abdomen, absently blocking a groin strike, while she thought through her plight.
Then the time came, almost simultaneously, that they changed their strategies.
Shampoo braced herself for Ranma's first blow, almost caught unaware by the fist flying at her. But years of training helped block and absorb the terrible strike. The smaller woman in front of her could hit! Twirling out of range, Shampoo found herself followed closely. Several kicks sent her sprawling in the dirt.
Ranma turned to Cologne to see if she was satisfied with their progress, but the old woman gave no indication. Turning back to Shampoo, who's gotten up by this time, she set herself for another devastating attack.
Kick to the shin, palm strike to the chest just above the breasts, leg sweep. Faster than Shampoo could react to the new threat, she found herself on the ground, gasping for air. The palm strike had taken all of the air out of her. Added to that was the poor landing she had from the leg sweep. Standing unsteadily, for her shin hurt considerably, she assumed a defensive crouch.
To no avail, however, as Ranma was suddenly all around her, poking and prodding. Pain blossomed in her left side, making her open herself on her right. She was then taught exactly what would happen to her if someone had skewered her with a spear in the gut as a quick knifing to her abdomen with stiff fingers took her down. Gasping and wheezing, she swung at the blur that was Ranma, only to miss. Her hand was caught and pulled, causing her to fall forward.
She tapped out as she felt one arm twisted behind her and her neck being pulled in another direction. Her neck muscles were stretched taut and, if she tried hard enough, she was pretty sure she could hear them strumming like high-tension wire.
When Shampoo was finally able to rise, with Ranma's help, she turned to the shorter girl. Murmuring softly, "Ranma," she advance and placed one hand on Ranma's cheek. Ranma, in sudden shock, didn't move to stop her. She leaned forward and was about to place a kiss on the smaller girl's cheek for her humiliation before Cologne's ringing admonition stopped her.
"That'll be enough of that, Shampoo. It was a sparring match, not a death match. She is my guest. Therefore, she is exempt from the Kiss of Death law. Cease and desist." The note of ancient authority rang true and stopped Shampoo mere inches from Ranma's cheek.
It was Ranma that leapt back, looking at Cologne in disbelief. "Kiss of Death? What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded shrilly.
Shampoo straightened, lowering her hand to her side. Bowing her head, she walked off of the training ground. Her heart was in her feet at the moment. Her summons hadn't been for her to receive training but to be the personal punching bag of this Ranma person.
Stopping at the edge of the clearing, she turned a baleful glare at the unsuspecting Ranma, who was demanding answers of her great grandmother. One day, she swore to herself, she would get even with Ranma. Turning away, she stalked back to her home to nurse her injuries.
Yes, I'm still alive. For quite some time now, I've been working on this story. Or, more like, worked on it here and there for quite some time. Fernando Peña asked me to write a story for him and I took off with it. I melded his ideas with some of mine and so here it is thus far. Maybe I'll get around to getting something done with it.
Airborne leads the way! Huah!
Death from above!
Always out front!
Mitch